Photo by Jill Dimond on Unsplash

Wind cuts through this January night
Slices like a knife through my meagre clothes.
Signs on the road hidden by an iron fog
The cry of the wind is all in vain
Nothing is the same.

I kiss you across this black hole in time.
In the old be-jewelled spider-webbed…

The Tallenge Store: Acrobat And Young Harlequin 1905 (Acróbata y Arlequín Joven) — Pablo Piccaso — Canvas Prints
It's hard to live without you, brother. 
Between the worlds of death and life
this fool hangs around.
Misunderstanding is in my soul
smouldering, a fire with damp leaves.
My heart's fierce wounds
given balm even cured
by the knowing of you.
Banished to this
foreign land, you are -
wandering through death.

Photo by Paul Einerhand on Unsplash

I am paralysed, silent, stuck
in a shadow behind this mountain
I scurry into a winter-valley:
Dried up, shrivelled, weather-beaten:
Rock- hidden fossils, time set in stone.

Evolutions of Medusa’d scare the shit out of me
Even if I wasn’t afflicted by a peculiar petrified decay. …

John E Marks

I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can

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